22 March 2010

Mama maus made her first homemade cupcakes (with a help from Tio Peter) and the nugget ate his first candle. Yes, candle - frosting and sweet cupcakes weren't that exciting it seems.

But the weather was perfect, the birthday hat stayed on (thank you Leigh!), the company was a delight and the pit of balls was a hit with all the other little kiddies at Duboce Park.

So there we have it - our little baby is officially a toddler and my first year of motherhood has come to an end. But like so many things, this end is not final, for mothering and growing and learning and questioning and just doing the best that I can continues.

For now, it is time to rest, regroup and recharge. Stay tuned for where maus and nugget go next...

At this time, exactly a year ago, I was trying to get some sleep.At this time, exactly a year ago, I was having my first significant contractions.At this time, exactly a year ago, I had no idea that in less than 10 hours I would give birth in a tub in our living room.At this time, exactly a year ago, I didn't know if I was having a boy or a girl.At this time, exactly a year ago, I was in the process of becoming somebody's mother.

21 March 2010

Non-attachment to schedules and things how they used to be, non-attachment to being on time or keeping commitments, non-attachment to how things should be.

Many months ago I committed to reading one chapter of Momma Zen every Sunday. i figured with chapters that are sometimes only a few pages long, this would be more than doable. But here I am, months later, and I am still only on Chapter 6. 4 pages in 4 months - that is almost laughable. No, it is simply motherhood.

But it is Sunday and I have read my chapter (for the 2nd time) and this one is important. They are all important, but this is really important because its about making making mistakes.

I have always wanted to do things right - who doesn't? But it is one thing to do things right for yourself, it is a whole other animal to do things right for your baby. And it starts with pre-natal vitamins and perhaps ends never. And with all the information and with all the choices, we think that if we do enough research, ask the right questions and make the right decisions, we will do what is right and perfect for our babies.

Until we make a mistake. Until they fall down the stairs because we left the gate open. Until they cry because the bite of sweet potato we gave was too hot. Until we lock them in the car with the motor running because we are doing too many things as the same time.

And so I made mistakes. I probably made a lot of them as a new mom. And I may never know the consequences of those mistakes, but I have to trust that they are as much a part of the nugget's learning experiences as my triumphs. I am not a perfect mom or wife or friend or daughter or sister and hopefully I can accept the imperfections of those around me. Karen Maezen Miller writes, "Practice acceptance on yourself so that you can be kinder to your child." Isn't that what we want, to be kind to our children? And yes, it begins with accepting ourselves, all parts of ourselves - the parts that we love and the parts that we wish could be different. The parts that take 4 months to read 4 pages and the parts that say one thing and do another.

19 March 2010

I guess that is the miracle of modern medicine, that after 24 hours and a couple of teaspoons of the pink stuff, our curious K is back, with smiles, babbles and an extremely delayed bedtime.

For the last two days, he's been a bit subdued and gentle, sleeping like a bear during the day, every few hours and then falling asleep by 6:30pm only to make noise again at 8am the next morning. And really, I have enjoyed every snoozing minute. I soaked in every minute of rocking in the glider with a stuffy nosed nugget dosing in my arms and even the time spent in the pediatrician's office with a very unhappy baby snuggled and asleep on my lap.

I am glad he is feeling better. And I am really glad that his fever is gone. And I fear, all that deep sleep may just be over. But we'll just have to wait and see.

18 March 2010

With 100.8 fever and a runny nose and cough that have been around for over 15 days, I figured it was time again to go to the pediatrician.

And as I guessed, this time, the nugget ears don't look normal.

So, the nugget officially has his first ear infection and we have our first bottle of pink stuff in the refrigerator. I knew it would happen and though it is not my intention to jump to antibiotics with every new sickness, this little baby needs something.

17 March 2010

It just so happens that today is St. Patrick's Day. We should have celebrated - not only because we should celebrate our good luck everyday, but because it's our papa's namesake day. That makes it his day and its special. But instead, he is fighting the miserable cold that the nugget and I sadly gave him as a welcome home gift.

Instead of green beer, green baubles and other green oddities, we ate potato leek soup, put a tired nugget to sleep at quarter to seven, watched a recorded episode of last night's Lost and will probably be asleep by quarter past ten.

16 March 2010

If you've never done restorative yoga, try it. It's the anti-doing and when we are rushing and doing and doing some more, we forget to breathe and then we forget to pay attention and then life flies by and then we say things like "I don't know where the time has gone."

But after class, time still keeps going and life still keeps going, but I am there for all of it. Really there.

15 March 2010

It's official - there are exactly 7 days left of my first year of motherhood. And it has me thinking about what this year has been about and how I have changed and what I have felt and what I have thought about and what I have learned and what is still to come and what I still don't know.

So what does it mean - this motherhood thing? What does it mean to you?

11 March 2010

You know when a conversation with one of your favorite people in the world starts like this, that its going to be one of those conversations. You know, those ones that last for over an hour, without any awkward silent moments or superfluous "Soooos" that only comes to an end when a little tiny lady nugget makes noises reminding her mama that its time for a dreamfeed. Her little noises were the unspoken sign to quickly and without much thought find the end of our train of words and softly say "Talk to you soon."

So to my dear friend, up in Portland, thank you for reminding me that this first year of motherhood can indeed be one of transformation and transition and total mind blowing self-actualization. And that all sleeping and nursing and feeding and picking up out of the crib rules are out when it comes to sick babies. And that enjoying when your husband is gone is really more than okay. And that the girls weekend really just needs to be the girls weekend. And that root beer floats and chats with girlfriends from LBBH (life before babies and husbands) will always make everything better.

10 March 2010

You can't always catch the firsts on film. In fact, I don't really think you ever get to catch the firsts because they just happen and you are inevitability always standing there, totally unprepared with a dead battery or a full memory card.

So kudos to you who capture the firsts.

I didn't capture the first wave - in fact I couldn't have. But I saw it - how he thought, he connected, and then his little tiny hand let me know he was saying goodbye.

This first, as with most of them, is just the beginning. And I may just be able to capture his repeat performance.

08 March 2010

It is true, for my own health and well being I will choose an extra dose of Vitamin C, sinus cleansing with my clay Netti pot and good old fashioned sleep to fight off any ailment that comes my way. Will even used essential oils, acupuncture and homeopathy now and again. Antibiotics are always the last resort. I take a similar approach with the health of the nugget - but as he was nearing week three of this roller coaster of a cold and his disposition yesterday changed to almost unrecognizable, I decided today that it was time to head to the pediatrician and see if it was time to introduce the nugget to the world of pharmaceuticals.

I don't love our pediatrician. The whole office does an okay job - but it is never more than that. As for our actual pediatrician, he does a fine job but I never get the feeling that he actually remembers who were are. Maybe its because aside from the well baby visits, he never sees us or hears from me. But, my list of to-do's is long enough, so for now we will stay put. I figure he didn't give us trouble for bringing the nugget to the world at home or choosing a spread out vaccination schedule - what more could you ask for.

I knew today that we would get a resident, since our only option for today was the drop-in hours. And so, we waited. Me and the nugget - in the small, uninspiring room with the fluorescent light. And the most amazing thing happened - instead of janking the tissue from the exam table, or pulling on the dangling cords, he sat in my lap. No movement, no sounds. And as I gently hummed the tone of "GutenAbend, GuteNacht", I could feel his body get even heavier. And then, he just simply fell asleep. Heavy and warm, his little body curled perfectly into the shape of my right arm. Really, this just tells you how very sick and uncomfortable the little guy was. It was only the sound of my own hacking cough that startled him back into consciousness, just minutes before the doctor gently knocked at the door.

After some poking and listening and palpating, it seems that he has a virus - an unknown, unidentifiable virus that is crawling through every household, school and public facility in San Francisco and the Greater Bay Area. And it would seem the cure is just some old fashioned TLC. Prescription: a humidifier, warm liquids, baby Tylenol when needed and patience. I guess we'll save our first bottle of pink goo for next time.

The harder part of this latest germ revival is that it has gotten me. And though I have been sick recently, this is different. And it is different too, because I am all alone. We couldn't have predicted that I would get sick while our papa is away so there is nothing we could have done differently - but really, this just plain sucks.

07 March 2010

A few weeks ago, we (the three of us) were at our first real birthday party - you know, the kind with a few big kids, even more adults and a table full of edible finger foods. It was lovely and we were all having a good time and then, it arrived - the nastiest, greenest, runniest nose I have ever seen.

I kept my horrified reaction to myself, tried to put myself in his mom's shoes and tried to remain pleasant. And then I at one point I was able to actually step out of myself, see my not so pleasant reaction and some how find my "relaxed, laid back, no big deal attitude." Until we got into the car. Oh my lord. I felt like someone had just unleashed the queen of all character judgement and damnation - I had no idea I had it in me. It went something like this:

"Isn't there some unwritten rule in the code of parenting that you keep green snot away from birthday parties. I mean, what was she thinking. She wasn't thinking - she just wanted to be at the party. No respect for other people." There may have been some additional 4 letter words, but you get my idea. My loving and smart husband agreed completely - and that was all I needed I put out the fire. Or so I thought.

Inevitably, 2 days later - I had a green goo sighting on the nugget.

I quietly cursed her but somehow tried to access my non-judging mind. Nearly impossible as I tried to keep the germs from spreading to my husband who was about to fly to Thailand in a few days. Don't know if it hit him sometime during his retreat, but will find out shortly.

Finally, the nugget was drip free last week and on Wednesday we went to visit our first parent-led pre-preschool play group. And there, sitting delightfully at the snack table was green goo monster #2 - unconscouis;y spreading the love. Great, not again. I mean really - how hard is it to say "We're sick and a can't make it." Our time there was limited as was our contact, so I just prayed. We've been sick, I thought - it can't get us again.

So Friday comes along 2 days later and the nugget and I have a swim class to make-up. Not more than 15 minutes into the class, a dad with his curly haired little girl of no more than 6 months, joins the class late. I look towards her and let's just say her supply of green goo beat them all. And what takes the cake, is that with one quick jerk of his hand, it was gone without a trace, cleaned off by the chlorinated water we were swimming in. I wanted to bolt.

Swim class really???? Don't people know that green means infection? Don't people know that swimming with a cold is really not that good of an idea? Don't people think about other people?

Now, you may be thinking that I am extremely harsh and that kids are always sick and you can't blame the parents. And that I should be so lucky to be in a situation that I can stay home if the nugget is sick, but I am not talking about school or daycare or riding the bus - situations where a runny nose is just part of the reality. I am talking about optional activities like birthday parties and swim class. It simply would have meant being the adult and changing plans. I know, you are thinking, just wait until its your turn.

Well today, it was my turn. Because as I had feared, the green goo is back and with a vengeance this time. The nugget is a cranky, clingy, watery-eyed, stuffy nosed, coughing little man and I am right there with him. We are quite a team.

And today, as irony would have it, we had a birthday party planned that I was really looking forward to, actually really looking forward to.

But instead I had to be the adult, had to be the mom who knew the potential consequences. So the nugget and I stayed home and missed an important 1st birthday. And yes, being that mom sometimes sucks.

06 March 2010

My first year of motherhood is slowly coming to an end and I still feel like there is so much that I haven't said or haven't shared. What I have learned is that there is not lack of content, but rather the lack of time and energy to really process it all.

That is why if you were to see the back-end of this blog you would see drafts of posted started. They sit there in the lists of posts and every time I see them, I think "Oh yeah, I really wanted to talk about that...and maybe I still do." And since this blog is just as much a chronicle for me to remember the first 365 days of the nugget's life, I am going to spend this weekend finishing what I started.

It is true that writing in hindsight may be different than if I had actually written on that very day - but it will simply feel more like story telling. And this is a story I want to remember. So be patient with me and allow me this looking back.

05 March 2010

We miss him. Okay, I miss him. I am not sure how much an 11 month old can actually understand someone not being there - but in my heart that look of overzealous bliss that happened around 6pm every night when the front door opened was there waiting for the few first days after his dad left.

It's Friday night and the novelty of being solo is beginning to wear off. And we still have another week to go. Our apartment can't really get any cleaner, I have already re-arranged the whole living room and our taxes are sort of being worked on. I will say, I have been extremely productive in his absence.

But today, on the way home from swim class, I drove along the rugged edge of the Pacific Ocean and watched as the spray of mist curled together with the gusting wind which formed a kind of film over the view outside the front of the car window. Short glances into the rear view mirror showed a completely conked out little baby boy - who was heavily resting his sleeping head on the side of his car seat. And then, when it rested into my awareness and I took a deep breath, I started to cry.

I think the hardest part is the extremeness of the distance - not just the geographical distance, but the complete lack of communication. No text messages, no Skype, no emails, no voice mails - nada, for 11 days.

And so, as with anything that can become more painful or uncomfortable when we add the torment of emotion to it, I am going to turn off the computer, light some candles and do my own meditation. Then, I will find some really girly music, maybe even have a grown up-beverage and baby proof the kitchen drawers.

Bottles come with an immense amount of pieces. Maybe that's part of the reason that I barely ever used them. Yes, breastfeeding is much much simpler in this regard.

And sippy cups are not much better - everything has got a bottom and a top and a valve and a cover for to go. And for 11 months, I have been moving this stuff around our kitchen, from one cabinet and drawer to another, trying to figure out where it should go.

Finally, I think I have the answer. I had to take the top basket off of this set of three, but I must say, I love this. Wish I had thought of it earlier.